


I'm a fuse and I've met my match

by blackkat



Series: Star Wars Smut [12]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, M/M, Nipple Play, PWP, Sexual Fantasy, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “Who’s in the next room?” Obi-Wan asks, low and soft right next to Hardcase’s ear.
Relationships: Hardcase/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Star Wars Smut [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675714
Comments: 16
Kudos: 519





	I'm a fuse and I've met my match

“Who’s in the next room?” Obi-Wan asks, low and soft right next to Hardcase’s ear.

It’s kind of really, really hard to focus on anything except the cock in his ass right now, and Hardcase groans in protest, sliding down another inch.

“I don’t think I care,” he says, and Obi-Wan’s long, clever fingers are tracing up and down his chest, leaving him to get himself seated on his own. “Great that you care about the neighbors, but a little bit of respect for the work I'm doing here would be nice.”

Obi-Wan snorts, rubbing his beard lightly over Hardcase’s shoulder. “You really don’t care?” he asks, and Hardcase can't see his face, but that’s _definitely_ his _eyebrow is raised and I'm being judgmental_ tone.

Hardcase’s muscles clench, and he moans, has to stop and just breathe as he sits there on Obi-Wan’s cock. “Not—not unless it’s the commander,” he gets out. “Too—too young. Only interested in pretty girls. Wouldn’t want her listening, but anyone else I just—hope they like a lot of talking—hng.”

Obi-Wan cups his thighs, taking some of his weight as he leans back a little, and Hardcase slumps back against his chest with a sound of relief, dropping his head back. Obi-Wan’s beard drags prickly shivers all across the curve of his shoulder, and Hardcase flushes hot at the memory of that feeling between his legs, how wearing his blacks the next day was _torture_. He’d taken to sitting as much as possible, and Rex had kept making worried noises about visiting medical and the genetic repercussions of a cracked growth chamber and it was all really sweet but made it really, really awkward that Hardcase _wasn’t_ suffering some genetic degradation but actually had a bad case of beardburn and a sore ass from getting pounded by a Jedi all night.

Obi-Wan hums, letting Hardcase slip down his cock another inch, and Hardcase groans and wiggles and tries to take more, eager to get on with things, but Obi-Wan is surprisingly strong and won't so much as budge. “It’s not Ahsoka,” he says, and the press of his lips to raw skin makes Hardcase hiss with sparking pleasure. “Who do you think it could be? Anakin?”

Hardcase laughs breathlessly, and Obi-Wan is _almost_ in deep enough, almost has his cock in him over halfway, but not _quite_ and it’s _frustrating_. Hardcase likes things to be all the way or not at all; the in-between bits always bother him. Like right now. He’s bothered that Obi-Wan isn't actively fucking him. He’s _really_ bothered about that. “I-if if Anakin, maybe we could invite—ah!”

Apparently Obi-Wan doesn’t like the in-between as much as he pretends to, either, because one hard pull of his hands and jerk of his hips and Hardcase is sitting flush on his thighs, muscles clamped down around his cock. With a shivery groan, Hardcase relaxes back against Obi-Wan’s chest, practically boneless with the feeling of being so full. He’s still a little slick from earlier, when Obi-Wan had swung by the training hall and then taken him in the showers, and it feels so good that Hardcase kind of just wants to sit here full of cock forever. Full of _Obi-Wan’s_ cock, specifically.

“Invite Anakin to join us?” Obi-Wan says, and that perfectly posh Coruscanti accent is just a little rough, his voice ever so faintly winded. He carefully loosens his grip on Hardcase’s thighs, stroking the skin there and then skimming them up to wrap his arms around Hardcase’s waist. “Having fantasies about your general now, Hardcase?”

Hardcase moans, tipping his hips just to feel Obi-Wan’s cock so hard inside of him. “Yeah,” he says. “Oh yeah. Nice Jedi sandwich going on, you know? Clones like to feel nice and delicate sometimes, right, and I figure— _oh_ —I figure nothing’s gonna say delicate like getting picked up and h-held in between you with—with both of you in me—”

Obi-Wan groans, hips jerking up hard. Hardcase yelps as Obi-Wan slides another inch deeper, and inch Hardcase didn’t know was available space inside him, then laughs a little. “Like that, too, Obi-Wan?”

“The image of you,” Obi-Wan manages, and a hand pulls Hardcase’s head around, right into a kiss that practically makes Hardcase’s toes curl. “Less Anakin joining us, I’ll admit.”

“Had that thought about Rex and Cody, too,” Hardcase admits, wiggling a little. Obligingly, Obi-Wan sets his feet and thrusts up, slow, rocking thrusts that roll Hardcase’s eyes back in his head, and he moans loudly as that perfectly-sized cock slides over his prostate and _stays there_ , making his scrabble at Obi-Wan’s arms for a grip as electricity shivers up from his balls to the top of his head. He whimpers, and when Obi-Wan pinches both nipples hard he lets out a breathy, trembling groan, pushing his chest into Obi-Wan’s hands. Thankfully, Obi-Wan gets the message, and he squeezes, strokes, pinches until Hardcase is twitching and moaning and trying his best to bounce on his cock.

“You,” Obi-Wan says raggedly, and kisses his cheek, his ear, the curve of his jaw, that corner of his mouth, “are going to be the death of me, Hardcase.”

“K-killing you with fun,” Hardcase jokes, and wonders what he can do to convince Obi-Wan to break out the nipple clamps again. A particularly hard squeeze makes him choke on Obi-Wan’s name, and the long, deep slide of Obi-Wan thrusting all the way up to the balls in him drags it out into a cry.

And then, of course, Obi-Wan just lets him sit there, full of cock, tits hot and tingling, beardburn and bite marks on the back of his neck and shoulders.

“ _No_ ,” Hardcase groans, tugging ineffectively at Obi-Wan’s hips. “Come on, come on, I _need_ to get fucked, I've been waiting for this all day—”

The sound Obi-Wan makes is ragged, low, but he nuzzles his beard against the back of Hardcase’s neck again and doesn’t move. “Not Anakin,” he says, still composed even though Hardcase wants to sit up and bounce on his dick like it’s a favorite toy. “Rex and Cody, was it?”

Hardcase doesn’t want to talk about _hypothetical_ fucking, he wants to talk about _this_ fucking, which doesn’t seem to be happening. “Yeah,” he says. “One in my ass and one in my throat. So if they're over there and listening, could be fun. Let ‘em take turns with my mouth while you put me over the table—”

Obi-Wan makes a wounded noise, and his hands go tight on Hardcase’s chest again. Hardcase whines, loud enough to echo in the small room, and Obi-Wan pushes him forward, thrusts up. Jerks into Hardcase with short, deep thrusts that make Hardcase yell, and Hardcase catches himself on the table, almost bent over it while Obi-Wan is still sitting back in the chair. The angle is _sharp_ , almost too deep, and Hardcase yowls as Obi-Wan’s cock seems to light up every nerve inside of him. There's still one hand on his chest, tugging hard, pressing, squeezing until Hardcase is shaking with it, shoving back onto Obi-Wan’s cock and forward into the hand on his nipple, but—

Obi-Wan’s other hand is between his legs, carefully avoiding Hardcase’s bobbing cock as he fucks him. Instead, his fingers press up behind it, behind Hardcase’s balls, dig in with one hard press, and Hardcase wails, only barely muffled by the fact that he’s facedown over the table. And Obi-Wan _keeps_ his fingers there, that ball-twisting pleasure unrelenting as he nails Hardcase’s ass. There are white lights spinning behind Hardcase’s eyes, and he can't breathe, can't speak, can't do more than let Obi-Wan take him, shaking and trembling and whimpering, and—

Well. Hardcase has never come so hard he blacked out before, but everything with Obi-Wan’s been a learning experience, so maybe it’s not the surprise it could be.

He comes awake an indefinite amount of time later, curled on Obi-Wan’s lap in the bed instead of on the chair. Obi-Wan is leaning against the wall and drowsing, and Hardcase spends a long moment just looking at his face. It’s a pretty face. It’s a really _kriffing_ pretty face, and the arm he has wrapped around Hardcase is firm and gentle, and Hardcase can feel bacta spread across his shoulders where the worst of the beardburn is.

With a huff, because _kark it_ but Hardcase is so kriffing lucky, Hardcase tucks his head into the curve of Obi-Wan’s arm, only to feel fingers trace lightly over his tattoo.

“Are you all right?” Obi-Wan asks, and when Hardcase peeks up, he looks concerned.

“Brilliant,” Hardcase says with a grin, then buries it into Obi-Wan’s shoulder. His voice is hoarse, and he wasn’t even deep-throating any cock. That’s a first. “Think you wrecked my voice.”

“Only momentarily,” Obi-Wan says, apologetic, and strokes Hardcase’s back. “There’s tea to help with that, and a night’s sleep as well. “You're off shift all day tomorrow, and I'm not needed until the afternoon.”

Hardcase pauses, then lifts his head again. Of all the things they’ve done together, cuddling is rare. Cuddling all _morning_ is entirely unheard of. “Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan tips his chin up with gentle fingers and kisses him, slow and careful like he’s the only thing in the world. “I thought we could take a moment to ourselves,” he says, and with a chuckle Hardcase slings his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck and shifts, sliding to the bed and pulling Obi-Wan down with him.

“Sounds good to me,” he says, kissing Obi-Wan eagerly. Obi-Wan’s fun to kiss. He’s _sweet_. And the way he cups Hardcase’s face, like he’s something valuable—well. Maybe there are a couple of things besides getting picked up that make a clone feel nice and delicate, and that’s one of them. Maybe that’s a _lot_ of them, honestly.

When Obi-Wan pulls back, he’s chuckling, and he’s smiling, and he’s the prettiest thing Hardcase has ever seen anywhere in the galaxy. In the _universe_. And—

The question connects, and Hardcase blinks. “Hey,” he says. “Who _is_ next door?”

Obi-Wan looks mildly startled by the question. “I…don’t actually think I know,” he says with a frown. “I was just teasing you. Surely the walls aren’t _that_ thin.”

There’s a loud _thud_ , like someone just threw something heavy at the metal. “They _are_!” Rex says, only a little muffled, and Obi-Wan flushes red. Hardcase _cackles_ , flopping back to the bed and laughing loudly at the ceiling.

“Like it, Captain?” he calls. “How many times ‘d you get off?”

Rex curses him out in Mando’a, loud and vicious, but—he’s not denying it, and he didn’t leave. Hardcase rolls over, still wheezing, and grabs Obi-Wan, pulling him down beside him. “Want to go another round?” he asks cheerfully.

Obi-Wan laughs a little, rolling on top of him and bracing his elbows on either side of his head. Smiles look good on him, Hardcase thinks, and he can't quite breathe, looking at Obi-Wan. That’s—probably love. Hardcase is pretty sure it’s love.

“Give me an hour,” Obi-Wan says, and then pitches his voice to carry. “Rex, if you’d like to come join us, you're entirely welcome.”

There's stunned silence on the other side of the wall, and Hardcase laughs. He keeps on laughing, right up until Obi-Wan kisses it out of his mouth, and then he’s got much, much better things to do.


End file.
